Part 1
"Who am I and how did I survive?" I'm just me. Oh, what do people call me? Most people called me 'Handy', but that's not my birth name. Outside of my family, I don't think many people knew my birth name. People who didn't like me or I wouldn't work for called me 'Trog', but that was their problem, not mine.
My home and land was paid for and I didn't have a lot of needs. I did odd jobs, sold plants from my greenhouse, and sold compost. I did some auto salvage work, but it was getting expensive to dispose of used oil and other fluids, so I didn't do much of that any more. I did support work for different groups of cavers, kind of a underground Sherpa. I agreed to help a new to the area caver with his first group. I should have known trouble was coming when I saw his supplies to be packed in. No extra food or water, but a case of beer and a case of energy drinks. What you do on the surface is your business, but a cave is no place to be drinking. I told him that if he wanted the beer, he would have to pack it in himself, I wasn't. He wasn't happy, but it stayed.
We got to a tube that was a long dangerous rappel. I took him aside and told him of an easier and safer way to the bottom. His response was "Who do you think you are to tell me what to do, you big dumb troglodyte? This is what they wanted and paid for."
At that I went and unloaded their supplies from my sledge and announced I was quitting, anyone that wanted to return could come with me. They look at the pile of supplies and tried to talk me into staying, but I have a bit of a stubborn streak. I knew if I stayed there would be trouble between the leader and me.
Nobody came out with me and they were not happy with carrying their own supplies. They really weren't cavers, they were adrenalin junkies that went into caves. When I came out early I told the cave owner we had a disagreement, but when they came out they were still not happy, especially since the cave owner knew what they carried in and what they brought out. He made them go back and get their trash. That is when some started calling me 'Trog'. It didn't hurt me any and it didn't do them any good, in fact when any of the 'trog'ers needed help I was always busy. One of the local kids called me trog but I didn't respond in any way, later that week his father asked me to help put in irrigation in his orchard. I told him I was busy and besides I didn't think his son wanted a trog around. The next day the son was carrying a sign around town saying "I'm sorry for calling Mr. Handy Trog". I wasn't busy any more and a better irrigation system got put in than what he planned. I did odd jobs around, such as helping the local vet., Dr. Brown, when he had a heavy load on one of his rounds or needed help caring for for the kennel or stable. He treated me well, paid me well, and Mrs. Brown baked some of the best cookies around.
Now, "How did I survive?" I was working support for local group leader and five mixed skill level cavers. All of them had rappelled down a easy fifty foot tube and I was getting ready to lower the sledge and the rest of the supplies for our four day trip. Suddenly there was a single hard shock that knocked me off my feet. The tube was blocked and so was the way we came in. There was a new opening to a cave I didn't know. I knew if any of them survived, they could not get back here from there. I reloaded the sledge and started to explore the new caves. I had most the food and water for seven people for three days plus the safety margin. I was hoping to meet the others. When I got tired, I stopped to rest and eat something, when I started to make mistakes I would stop and sleep a while. I marked my route as I went in case someone was following me or when I had to go back and take another route. It took me most of two weeks to find my way back to the surface, through a new opening that no one knew about.
I walked back to the cave opening expecting to meet the rescue crew. No one was there and everyone's cars were still there. I wrote some notes and left. I decided to stop by my place before driving into town. There was nothing on the radio, I was hopeing the radio in my truck was broke.
All the automatic feeders were empty and the watering tank was low. I started to refill the tank and all the feeders. The goats had plenty of pasture and the chickens had cleaned out their pen, but were alright except for being hungry. I lost all my rabbits. After caring for the animals, I went to fix me a hot meal and check the news. No TV or local radio, but there was news on the shortwave.
You know what happened as well as I do if not better, but here is what I learned then and later. He was a bad combination, rich, egocentric, and paranoid. One of his researchers developed a directional, controlled frequency, electro magnetic pulse (EMP) generator. He was looking for a pest control device that did not affect electronics. He succeeded, but found a frequency that stopped human brain wave activity. The billionaire, I won't even say his name, directed his researcher to continue his work and he would turn it over to developers. He took it to his satellite building division.
They scaled the transmitter up and launched it, power source, and control in five satellites in polar orbit. While this was going on he built an underground headquarters. It was equipped and stocked for him and his staff. When all was ready he gathered his staff, mostly young women, and had the satellites join together. Once started it was completely automatic. When he announced they were going to be the beginnings of the new human race they rebelled.
Some tried to get the warning out, some went to get their families into the shelter, and some chained the billionaire the the fence around the headquarters. It had already crossed the east coast of America and crossed the pole to Russia. The only survivors in the beamed areas were underground, in basements of large building, or in hardened sites. Over 80% of the population was killed before an especially hardened warship launched a satellite killer missile.
They also killed several offensive satellites, including the one that struck the nearby army base with a kinetic energy weapon. That was the single shock that hit while I was in the cave. Some may have been manually activated and others may have been automatically activated by the attack. That is something we may never know.
Discretely arming myself, long guns in the truck and pistols under my jacket, I started back into town. Stopping at each home as I went, if I found bodies of the in the home I would open the pens and gates, but putting down any pigs, dogs or house cats to keep them from going feral. Livestock that were in pastures were in the best shape, because we had some rain while I was in the cave, but livestock in pens were mostly dead or in such bad shape they had to be put down. I ran out of ammo for my pistols and had to borrow some from empty homes.
It was dark when I made it into town. There were a few houses with lights on in town, but they were on timers or were on when the attack came. Discouraged and hungry I went to the family market to get something to eat and think. I didn't stay long, the bodies of the people that were in there were not disturbed. There was a stove and couch in Dr. Brown's clinic and I had a key. Dr. Brown would have been on his rounds and no one would have been there. All the cages had to be emptied and the horses in the paddock needed to be fed, they are now in my pasture. It was a good thing I had installed the same watering system there as I had at home.
While dinner was heating I sat down to make a list of things that I needed to do. First was to search for other local survivors. Check the other caves and see if anyone else made it out. Go to George's house. When I helped George install his antenna tower and wind turbin, he taught me to use his short wave radio. After that go to the local AM/FM radio station to try to get a message out to any left alive.
The next morning I drove down the levee road to George's and saw the shock wave had left too many cracks that I could see for me to hope to repair them myself. If we get a lot of rain next spring or if any of the local dams fail, the lower part of town will flood. I will have to salvage or move everything I can before then.
"Who am I and how did I survive?" I'm just me. Oh, what do people call me? Most people called me 'Handy', but that's not my birth name. Outside of my family, I don't think many people knew my birth name. People who didn't like me or I wouldn't work for called me 'Trog', but that was their problem, not mine.
My home and land was paid for and I didn't have a lot of needs. I did odd jobs, sold plants from my greenhouse, and sold compost. I did some auto salvage work, but it was getting expensive to dispose of used oil and other fluids, so I didn't do much of that any more. I did support work for different groups of cavers, kind of a underground Sherpa. I agreed to help a new to the area caver with his first group. I should have known trouble was coming when I saw his supplies to be packed in. No extra food or water, but a case of beer and a case of energy drinks. What you do on the surface is your business, but a cave is no place to be drinking. I told him that if he wanted the beer, he would have to pack it in himself, I wasn't. He wasn't happy, but it stayed.
We got to a tube that was a long dangerous rappel. I took him aside and told him of an easier and safer way to the bottom. His response was "Who do you think you are to tell me what to do, you big dumb troglodyte? This is what they wanted and paid for."
At that I went and unloaded their supplies from my sledge and announced I was quitting, anyone that wanted to return could come with me. They look at the pile of supplies and tried to talk me into staying, but I have a bit of a stubborn streak. I knew if I stayed there would be trouble between the leader and me.
Nobody came out with me and they were not happy with carrying their own supplies. They really weren't cavers, they were adrenalin junkies that went into caves. When I came out early I told the cave owner we had a disagreement, but when they came out they were still not happy, especially since the cave owner knew what they carried in and what they brought out. He made them go back and get their trash. That is when some started calling me 'Trog'. It didn't hurt me any and it didn't do them any good, in fact when any of the 'trog'ers needed help I was always busy. One of the local kids called me trog but I didn't respond in any way, later that week his father asked me to help put in irrigation in his orchard. I told him I was busy and besides I didn't think his son wanted a trog around. The next day the son was carrying a sign around town saying "I'm sorry for calling Mr. Handy Trog". I wasn't busy any more and a better irrigation system got put in than what he planned. I did odd jobs around, such as helping the local vet., Dr. Brown, when he had a heavy load on one of his rounds or needed help caring for for the kennel or stable. He treated me well, paid me well, and Mrs. Brown baked some of the best cookies around.
Now, "How did I survive?" I was working support for local group leader and five mixed skill level cavers. All of them had rappelled down a easy fifty foot tube and I was getting ready to lower the sledge and the rest of the supplies for our four day trip. Suddenly there was a single hard shock that knocked me off my feet. The tube was blocked and so was the way we came in. There was a new opening to a cave I didn't know. I knew if any of them survived, they could not get back here from there. I reloaded the sledge and started to explore the new caves. I had most the food and water for seven people for three days plus the safety margin. I was hoping to meet the others. When I got tired, I stopped to rest and eat something, when I started to make mistakes I would stop and sleep a while. I marked my route as I went in case someone was following me or when I had to go back and take another route. It took me most of two weeks to find my way back to the surface, through a new opening that no one knew about.
I walked back to the cave opening expecting to meet the rescue crew. No one was there and everyone's cars were still there. I wrote some notes and left. I decided to stop by my place before driving into town. There was nothing on the radio, I was hopeing the radio in my truck was broke.
All the automatic feeders were empty and the watering tank was low. I started to refill the tank and all the feeders. The goats had plenty of pasture and the chickens had cleaned out their pen, but were alright except for being hungry. I lost all my rabbits. After caring for the animals, I went to fix me a hot meal and check the news. No TV or local radio, but there was news on the shortwave.
You know what happened as well as I do if not better, but here is what I learned then and later. He was a bad combination, rich, egocentric, and paranoid. One of his researchers developed a directional, controlled frequency, electro magnetic pulse (EMP) generator. He was looking for a pest control device that did not affect electronics. He succeeded, but found a frequency that stopped human brain wave activity. The billionaire, I won't even say his name, directed his researcher to continue his work and he would turn it over to developers. He took it to his satellite building division.
They scaled the transmitter up and launched it, power source, and control in five satellites in polar orbit. While this was going on he built an underground headquarters. It was equipped and stocked for him and his staff. When all was ready he gathered his staff, mostly young women, and had the satellites join together. Once started it was completely automatic. When he announced they were going to be the beginnings of the new human race they rebelled.
Some tried to get the warning out, some went to get their families into the shelter, and some chained the billionaire the the fence around the headquarters. It had already crossed the east coast of America and crossed the pole to Russia. The only survivors in the beamed areas were underground, in basements of large building, or in hardened sites. Over 80% of the population was killed before an especially hardened warship launched a satellite killer missile.
They also killed several offensive satellites, including the one that struck the nearby army base with a kinetic energy weapon. That was the single shock that hit while I was in the cave. Some may have been manually activated and others may have been automatically activated by the attack. That is something we may never know.
Discretely arming myself, long guns in the truck and pistols under my jacket, I started back into town. Stopping at each home as I went, if I found bodies of the in the home I would open the pens and gates, but putting down any pigs, dogs or house cats to keep them from going feral. Livestock that were in pastures were in the best shape, because we had some rain while I was in the cave, but livestock in pens were mostly dead or in such bad shape they had to be put down. I ran out of ammo for my pistols and had to borrow some from empty homes.
It was dark when I made it into town. There were a few houses with lights on in town, but they were on timers or were on when the attack came. Discouraged and hungry I went to the family market to get something to eat and think. I didn't stay long, the bodies of the people that were in there were not disturbed. There was a stove and couch in Dr. Brown's clinic and I had a key. Dr. Brown would have been on his rounds and no one would have been there. All the cages had to be emptied and the horses in the paddock needed to be fed, they are now in my pasture. It was a good thing I had installed the same watering system there as I had at home.
While dinner was heating I sat down to make a list of things that I needed to do. First was to search for other local survivors. Check the other caves and see if anyone else made it out. Go to George's house. When I helped George install his antenna tower and wind turbin, he taught me to use his short wave radio. After that go to the local AM/FM radio station to try to get a message out to any left alive.
The next morning I drove down the levee road to George's and saw the shock wave had left too many cracks that I could see for me to hope to repair them myself. If we get a lot of rain next spring or if any of the local dams fail, the lower part of town will flood. I will have to salvage or move everything I can before then.